“Whew,” someone in the crowd whistled.
“Fucking bully, Dexter the heckler. Put ya hands up with a real nigga. Slick talking muthafucka always quick to reach for the trigga. Fucking lame, Dexter the heckler. Loudest nigga in the room because ya confidence is zero, probably didn’t have a daddy. Aye, this nigga need a hero.”
“Ahhh,” Al laughed out loud.
“Fucking lame. Dexter the heckler. Fucking bully. Dexter the heckler,” Duce repeated, hopping around on the couch in the section.
“Fucking lame,” the crowd repeated.
“Dexter the Heckler.” The dancers giggled.
“Man, fuck this shit,” Dexter barked, trying to push his way further into the section but was stopped by the security guards.
“You gotta go man.”
“Get the fuck off me,” Tilly bellowed as he was pushed through the crowd right behind Dexter, who was being dragged out of the club like a toddler.
“Ladies, yall gotta stop letting these sassy ass niggas stress yall out,” Logic said into the mic. “Now, back to business. DJ, give these ladies something they can bounce to.”
And just like that, the club went up. More bottles were popped. Asses and titties were bouncing and dollars werethrown. By morning Dexter would be the laughingstock of Detroit, and it was all his fault.
“You know that nigga not about to let this shit go right,” Al said, taking a seat next to Logic.
“Oh, I’m banking on it.” Logic grinned, pressing send on his goodnight text to Tyler.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Amber sat on the edge of the bed trying not to go upside Dexter’s head. He stumbled in the house at five in the morning smelling like booty and liquor. He was loud, knocking over shit, and rambling about shooting up a club. Dexter didn’t bother to wash his ass or brush his teeth, and if he had just gone to sleep, Amber would’ve been cool, but no. Dexter started mumbling about how he was going to run up on Logic and make Tyler watch as he beat his ass.
Amber tried not to take their situation serious, because it was easy to see he was still hung up over his ex. She liked the way they vibed, but then he’d do something to remind her that they were simply fucking around and nothing more. Dexter fucked her good and seemed to be knowledgeable about the music industry. He introduced her to producers, took her to parties, and even worked on music with her. Amber tried to leave it at that, but slowly she was developing feelings for a man whose soul was tied to another.
Bzzzz bzzzz bzzzz
Peeping over at her vibrating phone, Amber glanced at Scottie’s name before answering.
“Girllll,” Scottie groaned into the phone. “I can’t stand these niggas.”
“Tell me about it,” Amber co-signed, allowing her eyes to roll over to Dexter. “What’s wrong?”
“Logic! He's really messing with that girl.”
“You knew that though.”
“Right, but I didn’t think it was this deep. I went over this nigga house trying to make up, give him a lil pussy,hoping we’d be good, but this nigga answered the phone right in front of me. He on the phone caking with this bitch and I mean caking hard!”
“Oh hell nah.”
“Girl! And when I said something, he proceeds to tell her he didn’t fuck me. Like this nigga was explaining himself to that hoe.”
“Wow,” Amber muttered, barely paying attention.
Notifications and text messages had her phone vibrating like crazy, and that could be a good thing or a bad thing. Either way, Amber ignored Scottie to see what was going on. She prayed it was good feedback from her single. It hadn’t hit the Top 100, but Darryl had faith that it would after they released the video that looked like soft porn. Even if people didn’t like the song, they’d stream it for the video, and in Darryl’s eyes, a win was a win.
Looking through her text messages, Amber saw a few from Darryl and the label urging her to give them a call. Scrolling a little further, she saw tags and mentions from almost every app on her phone.
“Oh shit!” Scottie yelped. “Bitch get on Instagram!”
“I’m already on here.” Amber was trying to make sense of what she was seeing.
